


Coping

by oOoElvenGloryoOo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anger, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Femdom, Smut, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:12:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOoElvenGloryoOo/pseuds/oOoElvenGloryoOo
Summary: Okay so this is a kinda fucked up thing I wrote. I started off wanting to write porn. But I'm sad, and it made it weird, and now it's weird. So enjoy this weird as fuck sorta-porn about Solas finding his vhenan anger fucking a spirit who's using his shape.





	Coping

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure what to all to tag or CW but this has angry femdom stuff involving verbal humiliation and slapping a spirit multiple times and in general, really unhealthy coping mechanisms for everyone,except the spirit, who is a real bro tbh.

It was easy to find her in dreams, if you knew what to look for, which of course, he did. Always Skyhold, in his room in the tower, her mind struggling to recall the exact paintings on the wall, paying exquisite detail to the realism, down to the fresh flowers on the table, and the books on the desk. Sometimes a discarded tea cup, liquid half drank, long gone cold. All of these things he expected, depended on, in fact, to hunt her down like a rabbit in the bush, hoping to catch scent of her in the fade before she leaped into the dawn.

Into the dawn and back to the real Skyhold, the paintings intact, the flowers wilted and dying, the same book as though he'd come back and finish it someday. The tiny growth of mold growing up the side of a teacup. His agents said she'd forbidden anyone from touching the room, and spent most of her free time there, doors locked, the mages banished to other parts of the castle. Sometimes you could hear crying, if you passed by the door late at night. Sometimes howls of anger and pain. No one really knew what she did in there, and she liked it that way.

Turns out what she did in there was take sleeping potions and cavort with spirits in the fade. Well, one spirit, who could take many forms, one he had known in the past. It still took him by surprise that night. He'd though of approaching her, of being more than a voyeur to his lover's dreams. She'd been harder to find tonight, and now he knew why.

Some would say she'd made a deal with a desire demon. She'd say she befriended a healing spirit. His past payment to the spirit had been minimal, an act of good will, even. Was hers the same? His desire had been to simulate an old friend, so he could release the pent up emotions he had, let it go. It had been harder to get over the loss of his imprisoned friend than he'd let on, and the spirit helped.

He supposed she was doing much the same, but more carnal. Far more carnal, as she swept the imaginary tea cup onto the floor and shoved a version of him onto the desk. The desire spirit was a master shapeshifter, and willing to share that skill in all manner of ways.

She landed a hard slap against his face. "I hate you! Who the fuck do you think you are, you utter coward! Ohhh, I'm Fen'harel, I gotta end the world, I'm so grim and sad and awful" Smack. He'd never seen her this angry at anything that wasn't actively trying to kill her first.

"Get your pathetic excuse of a cock out. Now." Smack.

The shapshifter did as told, and with a "Yes, Inquisitor", even. He loosened his cock from leather breeches, erect and honestly bigger than it was in real life. He tried not to laugh out loud. This was a sight unlike anything he'd imagined he'd find tonight.

"Go on. Do it. There you go. See, you can do something other than fucking lay there can't you?" The shapeshifter obediently stroked his cock, all whimpers and precum and "Yes, Inquisitor, Please Inquisitor".

She certainly had an imagination, and a temper. She also had a very accurate memory for all the little noises he made during sex, which was surreal to hear when he wasn't the one making them.

The spirit kept going, using his shape well, as she mounted his face. "You're just a sad stupid dog who lost his ball, aren't you, puppy? Such a sad, sad boy." Odd thing to say during an orgasm, but to each their own, he mused.

"Anders did nothing wrong" a muffled voice said from betwixt her vice-grip thighs. She let out a cute "oh shit" and hopped off. "Wait a second, you don't even need to breath, you're a spirit!".

"Ellana, this is not helping you. And frankly, it's weird when he's here watching. I just can't. That's why we had the safeword, remember?"

She whipped her head in the direction the spirit nodded in, and saw nothing. "This one's on the house, friend. I do suggest that next time we try something a bit less...this." The spirit took back it's original, amorphous shape and vanished off to wherever it was needed next.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" she yelled, throwing a book from the table at the thin air. "Show yourself, in all your glory! Let me bow before the Dread Wolf himself, Lord of Abandoning! Betrayer of Love!"

"Vhenan, this demeans us both." he spoke from the shadows.

"This? THIS demeans us? Not you and your laundry list of unaddressed emotional hangups and communication issues disguised as a god complex you never really wanted? But of course, a REAL god needn't prove himself, right? He can just lurk in darkness, making....what was it you said once? Merry japes?"

She looked down, and found his wolf-jaw necklace, somehow placed on her in a mere blink of an eye.

"I meant what I said, vhenan. What we had was real. Is real. It's real for as long as real still means anything." He spoke with the intent to leave, but lingered a moment longer. He wanted to be sure she'd wake up alright, and not stay here, in this fade shrine to his memory.

"I would have went with you. Helped you. Found a better way." Glittering dream tears streaked her face.

I know, he thought to himself. That's why I stay in the shadows. "Wake up" he whispered, sending her back into real life, back to the waking forms of pain. Maybe next time, next time he could talk to her. Maybe next time he'd be weak enough to listen to the better way. 


End file.
